


Scarred

by Songofpsalms297



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cancer blows, F/M, Inquisition AU, There are hospitals and diagnostic wards, They go battle bad guys together, Varric is still a rogue, Welcome to some of the mishmash of my weird fun brain, but Cassandra is still a Seeker of Truth and has armor, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 14:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songofpsalms297/pseuds/Songofpsalms297
Summary: Cassandra and Varric deal with breast cancer.





	Scarred

**Author's Note:**

> There has been far too much cancer of late. Cancer sucks, cancer blows. In some ways, Cassandra reminds me of my grandmother. She was fierce, passionate, unwaveringly loyal. She had absolutely zero time for bullshit. She knew the value of respect in relationships. She taught me how to recognize what real love looks like. She passed 13 years ago, and in her lifetime battled, skin, colon, and breast cancer. And she beat them all. She had a mastectomy in her 70s. Her husband thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. She died years later due to a heart condition. She kicked cancer's ass though. After she'd passed, my mom found a Polaroid her husband had taken of her. She had posed for him, post-mastectomy, shirtless. He wanted to remind her how sexy he still found her, even after having lost a breast to cancer.

          Cassandra trembled. Sheathed in a white fluffy robe, feet crammed into white, open-backed hospital slippers. He noticed. Standing toe to toe, she trembled, and he, always, reached out to comfort her. At his understanding look, she nodded, allowed him to gently grasp her elbow and escort her to the bathroom.

                                                                                ~o0o~

          Vulnerable. Helpless. Righteous fury. When they had heard her diagnosis, her hands had clenched. Fisted in her lap. Counting backward from five in Nevarran because she knew it would be rude to punch the doctor in the face. She had been startled but not surprised to hear the hiss of shock to her left, his hand on her knee had spasmed; when she looked at his face, she saw tear tracks.

          One cannot punch cancer in the throat.

          It had all been routine. Yearly mammograms, check-ups, she was always fit. There had been concern one year because her breast tissue was dense. Therefore, she had left that appointment knowing she would have to be mindful of any changes. In addition, Varric was always willing to "help" her with her self-exams, although were they "self" exams if he was the one gently massaging her breasts? Going through the gentle steps, the ever-decreasing circle, beginning from under her armpits to her nipples? Though he was always thorough, she had wondered about any potential accuracy, as they would both end up snuggling in post-coital bliss after every weekly "check". She supposed they must have had some merit, as he had been the one to notice the lumps first.

          They had gone through the whole ordeal together. The doctor's had been shocked by how small the tumors were, and how prolific. In an incredibly short time, the tumors had begun near her nipple and spread up to her armpit. The doctors were concerned and had suggested she have her second breast biopsied. They found cancer in that one as well.

          Cassandra had never been a preener. She thought of her breasts in utilitarian terms. They were part of her body, they served a purpose. Their sole purpose, to that point, had been to bring herself, and her partner pleasure. Sometimes they were bothersome as there was some finagling for comfort within the confines of her armor.

          It had taken little time for Cassandra to come to the conclusion that vanity aside; she did not need her breasts to live her life. She was relieved when Varric had told her he would stand behind her come what may and that she was still, "The sexiest Seeker to ever hold a knife" to his throat. Therefore, she had called her oncologist back and asked for the earliest opening for her double mastectomy. One had to cut the head off the dragon to kill it. Cassandra was a Pentaghast. This cancer would not defeat her. She would fight and kill more dragons before her time on earth was done.

                                                                                ~o0o~

          Now, weeks later they stand in the bathroom, together. A united front. Involuntarily she clutches the top of the robe closer to her throat. The rogue in him misses nothing. He shifts in front of the mirror, catching one of her fidgety hands in his. His voice rumbles in concern, and his eyes spill over with love, and admiration as he considers her. He sees she is at war within herself. Her natural defiance waging a fierce battle with the fear. Unwanted, tears slip down her face, he chuckles as one splashes from her eye into his.

          "Shit, Cass, we are a pair, aren't we?" His hand runs comforting circles over the hand he has captured. "If you aren't ready for this, tomorrow is another day. Whenever you are ready, you just let me know."

          Her voice hitches with her tears and she hates it. Hates that she is still, even after all, they have gone through together, she is still afraid of being vulnerable. It is not the company; it is the ghosts that haunt her. "Varric."

          He stills. He knows he has to wait her out, and he will. He will not take that away from her by answering the question he knows she is terrified of. The question she wants answered, but is horrified to know the answer, but cannot not ask it, because she has to know, how to steel herself to face the morrow with three amputations, rather than just the two. Therefore, he waits for her to gather her words and speak. A wave of love for her steals through him, and he cannot suppress the twinkle in his eyes or the way his lips curl up.

          "I am afraid. I -, you are free to go-," she stops uncertain before she rushes everything out in one breath, "IfyoufindmeunattractiveIwillnotblameyouifyouleaveme". And with that, the tears come in earnest.

          He can't help it. This beautiful creature he has given his heart away to. Compassionate tears roll down his cheeks, he gently captures her chin, steers her face so she is looking into his eyes.

          "You are beautiful to me. You will always be beautiful to me, Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Probably-More-Names-You-Won't-Ever-Tell-Me Pentaghast", he laughs aloud as she smirks through her tears and pushes his shoulder.

          "Nor would I, you tease me enough as it is, Dwarf."

          Mood a little lighter, he draws her down to sit on the edge of their tub with him. The intensity of his gaze burns a little brighter; she feels the room get a bit warmer. Sudden fear grips her heart, she blurts out, "What if you find these scars ugly? I could not bear to see disgust on your face. I cannot!" She makes to jump up, to flee, but he won't let her go off into the dark. Not until she sees the truth, he knows.

          Catching her frightened eyes once more he speaks, "Remember the first time we shared a tent?" She nods, "Remember the first time we made love?" Her cheeks color and she nods, "Do you remember the very first thing I did?" Her color deepens, and perhaps there is a spark of something in her eyes, perhaps the fear is a very little bit lessened.

          Clearing her throat, she responds, voice a little husky, "You said, you asked my permission to", remembering more her voice hitches", bless my scars."

          His eyes twinkling brighter, he leans in close to her, lips just above her own. She darts her tongue across her lips, anticipating the moment when the distance is gone, his voice rumbles, "I would be honored if you would allow me to bless your new scars".

          Maker, how can it be possible for her to turn an even darker shade of red, yet now, the blush staining her cheeks, runs down her neck and across her chest. A stark reminder of what they are doing, why he is attempting to seduce her in their bathroom. She takes the courage that he offers. She stands before the mirror, and opens her robe, revealing her newest set of scars to herself, then to her beloved. His eyes, his face bear no shock, no disgust, no horror. Just pure desire.

         "Maker take me, I love you, Dwarf."

 


End file.
